Karma is a bitch so they say and I never took it seriously till it happened to me. I want you and I did things I'm not proud of to get you to want me too. And now its coming back to bite me in the ass. You cant have your cake and eat it too... Guess I shouldve listened then too.

Sucky

This isnt what friends looks like. Two hearts tethered together and the cobwebs growing frantically. We have no common ground. We are lily pads on a river drifting away from each other and doing nothing to stop it. I'm sorry I'm so shitty. I'll make it up to you somehow.

it feels like this...

this feels real. it feels easy and hot. it feels like your tongue sliding across my neck, cooling the spot you just left your mark on. it feels like your hand running over and under my thigh and me clutching at your tank top trying to get closer, even though we are already skin to skin. it feels like a late night hook up in my car, far out on a dirt road and my heart is beating so fast it feels like its going to pop out of my chest. it feels like Eskimo kisses and butter flies in my stomach when i catch your smile and you bite your lip. it feels nervous. then slow, and faster then hot. burning up, burning my skin, burning my kisses into your skin. when suddenly it slows down and your hand finds mine, fingers laced together, lips searching for each other. it feels like three hours of a roller coaster where you feel fully satisfied but not nearly satisfied all at the same time. it feels like your head resting on my chest and your quiet voice saying "your heart is beating so fast" and before i can think about what im saying i reply back, "its because of you". it feels like the muscles of your arms, shoulder, back, hips, stomach, thighs under my hands and me needing to feel every inch of you. it feels like your collarbones under the slide of my tongue and my hand sliding up and down your length. it feels like your nails scratching up my back and across my hips. it feels like the way you suddenly pull me tense close to you and i can feel your hand on the small of my back. it feels like i need to climb into your lap but this car is too damn small. it feels like i saw you mouth i love you but there is no way and i have to be imagining things. i feels like i love the feeling of my head on your chest and my hand on your hip, feeling your hip bone and the sudden need to plant a love bit right there. it feels like im crazy because i could've sworn i just heard you say "my darling". it feels freezing out here and my legs are shaking and suddenly you're saying "hold me im freezing" and you're right there by my side but in the back of my mind i remember you saying, "i dont want a relationship" it feels like that. what do you call it?

Just Stop

You show up with your perfect outfit and the perfect scruff and a smile that knocks me off my feet. I want you. I shouldn't want you.

Gravity Is Working Against Me

I dont wanna be a leader. I dont want to do this. I'm not good enough and every time I think I have it you come through like a raging fire and burn all my confidence to the ground. I'm tired of being proud of myself and feeling like I finally know what I'm doing when all along I didnt. I screwed it all up on my way to where I'm at and didnt noticed the wreckage I created along the way. I dont think I'm gonna go trough with this. I dont want to keep being a disappointment. I get blamed I live with the guilt. And yet youre just as guilty as I am and you get to skate on by. No says anything about what you do because they're too scared. I guess I'm just as scared though. Here I am hiding in the pages of the internet because I dont have the bawls to say what I really think

im a freak, im a weirdo

i havent felt this way in so long and right now it so strong i dont even want to be writing this. i want to be feeling the life drain out of my body. i want to never wake up and just die peacefully and never be seen again. never be hurt again. never be yelled at again. never be looked down upon again. i just want to die. i just want to be gone. its my birthday and i cant think of anything id rather have than being dead. it would so much easier on me. i was going to say it would be easier on everyone else but that's not true. there are a lot of people who depend on me daily for work and for life in general and i wouldnt want to let them down. but the truth is sometimes you have to let down the people you love because you see that you simply will never live up to their expectations. they say stuff to you on a whim and never realize what it is that their doing. that every single time that slips out of their mouth so frivolously it breaks a part of you. and eventually there is no more of you to break. they watched all the pieces of you fall and then they turn their backs and they dont think twice about it. but when they come right back to demand you give them more of yourself so they can watch you crumble.... and i want to be everything you expect all the time. constantly beating myself up for all the little things that i cant seem to get right. but i finally got to a point where i thought to myself "i have to start living my life. not wasting it on degrading myself everytime i disappoint someone" well i was wrong. i never should have let me guard down. i shouldve push myself harder and done more and been better. im happier when im more carefree and just realize that what happens needs to be taken with a grain of salt. but i hurt so much when someone close to me hurts me at just the right spot and its like acid on a gaping wound. ive been telling myself to hold on. that these new vitamins will help me. they will take away that cloud cover on my spirit and i will be able to function again. but now im not so sure. maybe ill never get better. maybe ill always feel this broken, this defected. maybe ill always be a freak who cries when she gets her feelings hurt. and the stupid part is getting asked when you do cry. like people dont expect you to cry, they expect you to stay tough. well i cant be tough. im not tough and i never will be. im fragile and sensitive and you cant just yell at me and then apologize and that will be it. ill cry, freak out, beat myself up and then eventually be able to face you again. and when it winds all down and i take a minute to breath, i realize that this is just another thing i will bury and suck up and move on from. i will go back to the treatment that hurts me so and just tell myself they dont really mean it.

Memories

Humid morning air. It smells light golden brown tortillas and suddenly I'm back there. I am sickened and fearful and ashamed all at once. I can believe myself. I can believe it was real. She trusted you. I trusted you. Please. Someone. Make the memories go away.

Pep Talk

Its nights like these that I need one of your pep talks. I feel useless and stupid and unworthy. I feel like an idiot and in the back of my head I can hear you say I knew you could do it. I knew my girl had it in her. I knew you had it in you. And most days I think you're the only person in the whole goddamn world who believe that about me. I miss you so much it makes me sick.

And what kills me even more is that I've let you become my identity. I've put my faith and soul in you. Even now 5 years later I am forever waiting on you. And probably always will.

Listen. Listen very closely.

What's the point? I feel unimportant and bullied. And I feel like a waste of time. Having an opinion is useless if you can't get anyone to understand where you're coming from. There is more than one right way. There may not even be a right way but more different views. When people ask for your view on something and then shut down what you have to say it doesn't make you feel very good. Her opinion gets to be right because she knows better and she's older and she has more experience. What do I know? I'm just a kid. I have done this long enough to have a view worth listening to. Why bring me into this if everything I say gets shut down. It would be better for you to exclude me completely than let me in and then not give what I have to say a chance. I don't wanna be right. I just want to be heard.

Too Much

I want out. I want down off this sick cycle of low self esteem & a constant wish to be dead. I want peace & serenity. No more harsh self judgment. I want to be empty, meaningless, clear like seeing to the bottom of a lake. I don't want relief, I want a way out. I'm tired of trying to make things better & then finally getting to the top only to fall down again. Being happy & joyful & alive is so much work. I'm tired of working.

Meaningless

I guess I'm afraid to confide in you because I'm afraid you won't be sympathetic. You're not eating animal products anymore and you're gonna get a pet pig so its one less bacon product in the world. And you're not showering to conserve water for the children in Africa and when I think about all that and then compare it to my middle class depressive pathetic self I feel as though my problems don't matter. I feel like telling you would be a mistake and that you'd look at me and laugh. Then say "you're depressed? Ha! Think about all the dying animals and children with no water. Think about how depressed they are." Ya I guess when you put it like that it feels pretty meaningless.

TW: Suicide

I've figured it out. It being the fact that I spend half my time wish I semi would tbone me and put me out of my misery. I kept wondering why I could be like any normal suicidal person and just want to slit my wrists or hang myself. I kept telling myself that I wasn't suicidal, that I just wanted to die. That I wouldn't be sorry if I was in some sort of fatal accident. But the truth of the matter is that I don't want to commit suicide because I'm not suicidal. I dont want to commit suicide because I don't want my mom to be disappointed in me even in death. My mom has always said suicide is the most selfish thing anyone could do. And she's called me selfish my while life. So me offing myself would just prove her right. And disappoint her. And even in death, I could never spend an eternity with that knowledge.

TW: Suicide

I've figured it out. It being the fact that I spend half my time wish I semi would tbone me and put me out of my misery. I kept wondering why I could be like any normal suicidal person and just want to slit my wrists or hang myself. I kept telling myself that I wasn't suicidal, that I just wanted to die. That I wouldn't be sorry if I was in some sort of fatal accident. But the truth of the matter is that I don't want to commit suicide because I'm not suicidal. I dont want to commit suicide because I don't want my mom to be disappointed in me even in death. My mom has always said suicide is the most selfish thing anyone could do. And she's called me selfish my while life. So me offing myself would just prove her right. And disappoint her. And even in death, I could never spend an eternity with that knowledge.

i might really have a problem. you see, i go onto my best friends blog and follow her life from afar because im too wrapped up in this depression to actually go see her. i get on her blog and i torture myself with the fact that i have to hear of these things in her life through a web page.
fuck.

Send Help

its not easy when you saw your life plan going one way and then suddenly you're questioning everything you thought you loved. questioning if you even know what you're doing or if you have your life together. and it all makes you feel like your a random particle spinning in space waiting for someone to snatch you up and put you where you belong. because i dont know anything anymore. i feel useless and hopeless and faceless. im working because i need a job but i know that i need to find a career. not just a job. but a passion. something i love to do and enjoy. and make money doing. i thought i could just adopt your persona, your shadow. but that's not the solution. its not possible and its not making me happy. i need a better plan. i need a definition. someone send help.

You Make Me Wanna Die

youve gotten me tangled in your web like the prey to a spider. the sticky string wraps around me, cementing me to your trap. the guilt, the high expectations, the never ending cycle of never being good enough. ive sold my soul to you and i realize now that it may just be the biggest mistake of my life. i dont want this tie to you anymore. i wanna be free. i wanna get out. get my own life and become something so far from this person that i am now. i feel like there is another version of me so deep inside and that ive been stuffing it back trying to be the daughter that youve always wanted. and im starting to realize that you probably dont even know what you want from me. youre just as lost and scared as i am but the biggest difference is that you dont even know what you want and i do. i do know what i want. and im just too much of a coward to do anything about it.

Hooked

i just want to be sucked up into the floor. i want my skin to fall from my bones and my flesh to be eaten alive. i want to disappear. i want to take my final breathes and see the blood drain from my veins. i want everyone to forget who i am and forget what i look like. i want to be a memory. a forgotten memory. when my family and friends will say "she's better off dead". im too much of a pussy to take my own life. i could never swallow pills or cut my wrists or jump off a bridge or hang myself. i could never do any of those things. but if someone broke into my house and wanted to kill me right now i wouldnt beg for my life. i wouldnt ask to be spared. i would let him shoot me. as many fucking times as he wanted. and i hope my mother would feel bad when she saw it happen. i hope she would regret not being a better mother to me. i hope she would regret all the fucked up ways she's treated me over the years. i could never take my own life but i pray to god someone else comes to take mine. and hopefully sooner rather than later.

Starting Something

Many haunted memories live in this tattered heart. Past lovers, past fights and lies, past kisses etched into my skin. And I don't expect you to come along and wipe them all away. I want things to go right this time. I don't want to screw it up this time. The look on your face when you heard the news of my sudden and ridiculous nuptials was something that will flood through me always. It was in that moment I think. When I knew I was making a mistake. Because I realized that we didn't have a history. I didn't have any piece of you in my tattered heart or etched on my skin. I had nothing to show except for the memory of your smile. I don't want to be desperate about this. I want to be smart and confident. I wanna make all the right moves and say all the right things. I just have a hard time with the execution. I'm gonna take it slow and live in between the memory of your smile and the way your arms felt wrapped around me. How I could feel the muscles of your back under my hands and how the fabric of your shirt was so soft. That's where I'll stay until I see you again.

Poison

It feels like someone ripped my heart out and replaced my blood with poison. Its leaked into my blood stream and filled up my lungs. I'm suffocating with each sob that escapes my lips. You've never been any good for me and yet I'm addicted to you body mind and spirit. I had fooled myself into believing that I had spent enough time away from you to be okay. I had thought I could handle 2 years of missing you rushing back at once. But I was wrong. Very wrong.

Punchy

I knew there was no way I'd get rid of you completely. You're back in my life "with a vengeance" from the mouth of babes huh? Its one of the most accurate things you've said to me. You've always been an intense part of my life. And I don't know why I'm surprised this time around that its been the same. And yet here comes my mom making it hell again. Saying she's not willing to give you another chance. I hate this. I hate her I hate you. I hate that I'm still in love with you. I hate myself. But the root of all hate and fear is love. Thats what it boils down to.

Grimm Reaper

If I'm all the way honest I would say that I have an obsession with death. I think about it a lot. What would happen if my mom died, if my dad died, if my best friend died.... What would life be like when the people currently in my life were dead. I wonder what it would be like for them if I wasn't here? Would people miss me? What would they say about me to parents and then whisper to their neighbor during the service? Would it be the same thing? Would people have to lie? Would they say I live life to the fullest? I think about this a lot. But mostly I just wonder what it would be like take my last breaths and knowing that I wouldn't have to wake up again?

The Plan

He tells me that his ex wants to talk things out. And then all over his Facebook he says he's gonna get a new job and then he says he feels like something good is about to happen and he just seems so happy. And I feel so small and worthless and I feel second best. Nothing but a good blow job in the passenger seat. Guess he'll "let me know" if he and his ex don't work it out. Like I'm supposed to wait around for him to give me the okay. And as much as I want  to go home and cry about this I won't. I'm gonna be the bigger person. I'm gonna break the awkward silence and tell him "look no hard feelings okay. We were friends before we can be friends again. I'm a grown up now and I can be professional."

That's the plan anyway.

Read Between The Lines Motherfucker

I'm not stupid. I know that a year of commitment doesn't just disappear when someone breaks your heart. I get that maybe he wants to give her another chance. I just don't understand why? From what he's told me she wasnt trust worthy at all. Constantly accusing him of cheating and then giving her number out to guys at gas stations while they were still together. She had a car but would make him walk to come see her. I mean granted she's way prettier than me. And they have a history together. But damn. That's messed up. I thought we really hit it off. He's the one who said what we had going was really good. I never get my fair chance with guys. The one time I did, the guy turned out to be using me and was a liar and a cheater from the start. I didn't even ask for this. He came on to me. He sought me out. And like an idiot I trusted him. He "didn't know this was gonna happen but my ex wants to try and talk things out" ya okay and I'll just be sitting here waiting for you to come back around, to suck you off for a second time. I mean really???? I was just using you for sex anyway. I didn't care about you. I knew we would never developed into anything. I just thought maybe I'd actually get to bang you first before you went crawling back to her. Your a coward. And a liar. And hate your fucking guts.

Love the way you lie inspired

"It wasn't always like this" I think to myself as my back slams into the wall and his fist come to either side of my head hitting the wall. I lash out with anger and push him away from me with everything that I have yet he still seems unmoved. His hand wrap around my arms just below my shoulders and I still fight him back, kicking and flailing my arms around. I go to yell at him and his forehead rests against mine. I push my head away from the wall in attempt to get him off me but he does it again. My fight starts to die down and our noses are less than inches apart. I can feel his breath on my face and feel the rise and fall of his shoulders. I close my eyes and wait for his words to spew at me. But they don't come and we stay silent for what seems like forever. I angle my head and kiss him so gently it could have been a whisper. He barely responds so I try again and this time he kisses me back. Before I realize what's happening his hands move from my arms to my waist and then down to my ass. I feel him grab me and hoist me up so I follow suit and wrap my legs around his waist. My hands immediately go to his bare back and I dig my nails in knowing it will leave red marks by morning. He kisses me with all the passion and anger and jealousy that are usually in his words. And that's when I remember why I don't leave him: he's crazy, hell I'm crazier, but he's mine.

Decision Time

I don't know that there are any more ways to say just how much your on my mind. Its constant. When I wake up, when I'm at work, when I'm driving, when I'm lying in bed at night. I think to myself maybe I read the signs wrong. But then I remember your kisses and I remember the way you said what we have is "good. Its really good". I remember these things and can't seem to figure out how it went from that to this silence. Everyone is telling me you're not worth it. They're saying if you really wanted to spend time with me you would. Theyre saying that this is all just a power play. But they don't know what you're like when you're with me. They didnt see how shy you were or feel the way your hands cupped my face when we kissed. I don't know what I did. But I want to fix it. And if there is no fixing it then I'll find a way to move on.

I wish he was here to hold me. I feel anxious and weird and uneasy. But when I'm around him those feelings disappear. That short hug last night has stayed etched in me like a tattoo. I want him. I want him so very bad.

Obsessed

I have to just accept I have an obsessive personality. You're a constant whirring in my head. Like someone turned a switch on and it won't turn off now. I want to just throw myself at you. I want to make you want me. I want to make you not be able to resist me.

I keep replaying it all in my head. Over and over and over. I hear your voice and all the sweet things you said. All the sexual things you said. Every detail of it makes my heart beat unevenly. It makes me feel like I can't catch my breath. You are the source of all my uneasiness.

Label This

Sometimes I wonder if its worth it. Wonder if being here is worth it. Wonder if opening myself up is worth it. Try as I may to not be vulnerable and get involved I just can't seem to learn my lesson. I have expectations. I do every time and then I get let down because things don't work out the way I think they should. I just for once want things to go how I think they should. Its not even the fact that we're not labeling it. I'm glad there isn't a label. Labels ruin everything. They set a standard of conduct between the two people. And then you have to explain yourself to everyone. No label is just perfect. Its more the fact that he didn't kiss me. And he didn't hug me. Its the fact that he's drunk. And not himself. And maybe even more so its me. I'm scared. I'm really scared of falling in love. Again. And I don't fucking want that. Maybe I should have thought this through. Maybe it was too soon.

Musings

Everything happens for a reason. But what if it happened so that you could realize it was all a mistake?

Need Your Touch

I said to myself "I'm not gonna so this" I'm not gonna get caught up on some guy. I'm gonna have my own life and not care. But right now here I am sitting in my car waiting to see him. I'm making excuses as to why I can't leave in hopes that we'll run into each other. When really me sitting here waiting will probably look stalkerish and creepy. I'll give it 15 more minutes. And then I'll leave. I have to taste his lips again. I don't wanna wait.

More to come

I have found a new muse. I am enthralled by his smile and in rapture with his laugh. His skin is soft as silk and warm like a spring day. My skin is buzzing like an electric fence just waiting and needing his touch. The hamster wheel in my mind is racing faster than ever before with constant obsession of him. This is fast and hard and intense. And easy smooth like the way a cold beer feels running down your throat on a summer day. There is no awkward glance or uncomfortable silence. Our words flow and bounce off one another so easily. I am inspired by him.

Dreaming

Stay out of my dreams. Your lips taste too real. Your laugh sounds too real. Your touch feels too real. Your eyes look too real. And it'd not real. It won't ever be real and its a fact I will have to face. I don't want to feel this way for you. I refuse to break down and let myself get close to anyone ever again. The last hurt I went through was too much of a close call. I can't risk my hurt again.

Identity Crisis

I come here and feel like a different person. I'm more open about my sexuality and feel like I'm finding myself. Every time I come here I feel at peace and at home and unafraid. And when I'm home there is a sense of responsibility. I'm grown up but also afraid. Not open about who I am. I hide behind this facade of being "straight". When really I'm queer. I'm queer and not proud because I'm whole family would disown me if they knew. But here I let loose. And finally feel good in my own skin. Even when I'm quiet or I'm at a party and I don't know a single soul. I feel more at home here as a stranger than at home with people who know me.

More short story ideas

I left the door to my room open knowing that Chris would be following right after me. I took off my faded red kimono and hung it over the bedside lamp, dimming the light just so. Chris was an old fashioned type. He liked the lights dimmed romantically and insisted on bringing his record player and old Nat King Cole albums. Honestly the whole facade of it all was sickening to me. I mean come on lets face it I'm a 23 year old hooker who's been on her own since she was 17 and has a 57 year old Casanova of sorts. Yes. This is my life. 

But Chris means well despite his creepy and somehow charming antics just to get it on with a hooker. I settle on the bed, cigarette hanging out of my mouth, legs crossed one over the other, sweat starting to collect on my back from the summer heat. "Dammit Willy!" I say as I ash my cigarette onto the floor, "He's supposed to be getting the air fixed in here soon. Soon. He said that 3 weeks ago. Guess I better not hold my breath huh?" I fix my eyes on Beau who's setting his record player on the worn down boudoir across from the bed. He looks at me in the reflection of the mirror and our eyes meet. He smiles warmly and says, "You know it don' botha me suga. Growin up in Georgia, the heat was ten times worse theya." 

His fingers go down the buttons on the front of his black shirt. They are thick and strong. They are man and hard working and for a brief moment they remind me of my fathers hands. I shake my head and exhale another bout of smoke. His shirt slips off and he starts on his jeans. First the button, then the zipper, next he toes off his shoes. His pants come all the way off now and he's left standing in his white briefs and socks. He turns Nat on and then towards me and walks to the right side of the bed, opposite to where I'm sitting. I take one last drag off my smoke and put it out in the ash tray. 

Chris sits down and pulls off his socks and briefs too. He's hunched over, the muscles in his back straining. I graze my eyes over him and the way his hair reaches the back of his neck just so and I bet it feels really soft. I clear my throat gently and he sits up a little straighter. I crawl on my knees over to where he is sitting and kneel down behind him. I can see sweat collecting along his hairline. I blow there to cool him off. He shivers. "Come on Chris. What are you waiting for. Let Sugar take care of you huh?" I reach around him and put my hand on his length. It's fully erect and waiting. I stroke him a few times and that does it. He turns around and settles on his back. I climb aboard and go for a ride. His eyes are half way closed the whole time and he makes me do all the work. At least I got Nat to distract me from his heavy breathing. 

Short story ideas

Chris Tucker was a pencil pusher. He sat at a desk all day in dress jeans and pin stripped button up shirts with his graying hair perfectly in place. He did god knows what on a computer for 8 to 10 hours a day and was resentful every second of it. He hated the technological times our country was moving towards and was not afraid to tell people his view on the matter. He was in shape for his age of 57. He wasn't what you'd call a ladies man but he was charming nonetheless.

Sometimes you could hear him flirting with cute young lady who sat behind him at the cubicles. "Chris do you have any more Reese's Pieces?" She would ask him. "No, sorry sugar I'm fresh out. But you Don' need none that anyway. You's sweet enough on yo' own." He winks at her and she blushes slightly. But that was Chris for you. Southern accent strong and captivating. The difference between Chris and most other men was that he was sincere. Charming, sincere, and honest.

Most of the time.

But he was one of my regulars at the Stardust Motel. The buildings and the office were both painted a terrible shade of yellow trimmed in baby blue. The sign was the same and had big royal blue stars on it too. It lay on the edge of a small, dirty town in central California filled with the likes of people like me: strippers, hookers, druggies, pimps, single moms with screaming children. It made me wonder how someone like Chris came across this part of town. I was leaning against the door frame of room 116, keeping an eye on the manager of the place Willy, as I filed my nails when he pulled up in his 1975 Camero. 7 o'clock on the dot same time he had every Friday for the last 8 months.

Willy was nice enough but I still didn't trust him further than I could throw him. He gave me a good deal on room 116 in exchange for 2 good blow jobs a week. Plus it made it so he didn't mind so much the way I made my money. Especially considering he got fringe benefits of it. Willy peeked from behind his Ray-ban knock-offs at the sight of Chris' car pulling up. I rolled my eyes at him and slinked back in my room. "Stupid fool! Still getting jealous for nothing" I complained.

Head Space

I've got this weird thing where I want to go up stairs and just have you gone. I wish that I'd open that door and all of this would be a dream. I never would have met you. I never would have made this mistake. I never would have to let my family down. I have to do something about this. I can't keep going when I know that my heart isn't in it. I think maybe I was right when I said I would be alone forever. Or I at least need to date the right way and you have your space and I have my space  and at the end of the day you go home and I'm not just thrown into this domestic life I have no experience in. You were right. I'm not ready for this. I'm probably gonna break your heart and I'm sorry. But I have to be true to myself and not go back. Once I'm done that has to be it. I'm also afraid of being a month or two from now and saying I made a mistake I should have stayed with him. But I was fine before and I will be fine again. Right now I just need to clear this head space and figure out what I want.

Put The Doctor On The Phone

I'm progressing to making not just myself miserable but making other people miserable too. Your absence is tearing apart my very being, my very essence of function. I'm dying inside a little bit more every time someone asks me about you because I still have to tell them "I don't know". I'm not blaming you. Even though it kinda sounds like I am. I'm not. Its like Pete Wentz wrote : my back has been breaking from this heavy heart. My back is breaking, my soul is breaking, my spirit is breaking. I'm turning into this monster that I don't want to be. 

HopeFloats

Hope. Hope is what keeps me going everyday. Without hope life would be mundane. Day in day out. Doing the same thing with never any chance at happiness or change. Hope: to expect with confidence. One of my favorite things ever said about hope is this: Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible, and achieves the impossible. Today I would like to have hope. Because there is a promise of you, the promise that I will finally be in your arms. It's the day I've been waiting for since I left you. Florence & The Machine put it like this: The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress. Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest. I have not found anything more accurate to express how I miss you. I'm driving myself crazy with hope because I would rather be in denial about what the future holds and be happy for the moment than spend an eternity knowing full well that I will never again lay eyes upon you. So I hold onto hope with a tight grip, like a child holds onto a toy. And I will be selfish with you. I will be selfishly hopeful because if I don't have hope in my fucked-up, busy, disappointing world than I have nothing. 

Dying Down

You are risking your life for me. Everyday you are out there is another day not promised to us. Absense is supposed to make the heart grow fonder. But I've been away from you longer than I've known you and my heart is starting to shrink. The flame is dying down and I'm afraid. We said forever. I gave you a piece of me I will never get back: physically, emotionally, and monetarily. I should be happy and hopeful. But mostly I'm just afraid. I have fear nestled deep inside me because there is no going back now. I'm leaping off the highest cliff I've had to come to you and now I have doubt of jumping. I will be in debt to you for 5 years at least. I will be in debt to you for life. I've got this hope that the reuniting of us physically will make my heart and mind fall into place. I have to believe it will.

Barely Holding On

There is a constant layer of fear just under my skin. I am anxious and uneasy. I haven't talked to you in 2 days. Thats the longest amount of time since I've met you. I keep waiting to wake up from the dream and find myself back in your arms. To open my eyes and discover that I never really left you at all. That this whole time we were together and this heartache I feel is nothing more than fiction. It seems impossible to me that you would leave me. I have no evidence or reassurance that you are traveling here other than your word. And I want to have faith in that. But I am doubting. I am doubting because I miss you. Because I'm afraid. I love you so much. I can't imagine life without you.

Holding My Breath

I know I didn't make you up inside my head. I remember your voice in my ear and your breath upon my neck whispering "iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyou" as we walked down the beach. I remember the rough pads of your finger tips grazing my back. I remember the way our hands fit together and the feel of your soft, wet curly hair just out of a shower. I remember your kisses and the way you have me butterflies. I remember the sound of you breathing when I slept with my head on your chest. I remember a million little things but none of them are as precious as having you here.

So I am holding my breath, waiting for you to be in my arms again. And I will wait until the end of the earth. Because there is nothing I'd rather have in my life than you. And the end of the earth will come quicker if you never make it back to me.

Morning Sun

The 7am sun shines outside my window. A hazy orange color, a little bit of warmth in the autumn coolness. It holds the promise of you, of a new day, of dreams coming to life. I've been waiting for you for 20 days. Today is the 20th day and I've got this gut feeling. I have this bubbly happy feeling in my gut. Its probably nothing. There is no way I could know you'd be here today but I still hold onto this intuition this wishful thinking. Because today I miss you so much I don't know how to breath.

Inspiration

As a fellow writer and artist I am connected to you. Your words, your pain, the thoughts you put out into the world tie to my soul with a sailors knot. Your words flow like the water from a brook and I am drawn to what you have to say. I'm inspired by you. By your abilities. I believe in you. Sometimes you just need someone to believe in you.

A New Beginning

My words used to have a home. Like a messenger pigeon I could tie a note and send it off into the world. But that place is tainted now and its time to start again. Its a new year with big new things happening in my life. I needed a blank page, a new pigeon, a new home for these thoughts that circle in my head. This journey is starting now and I'm looking forward to what this road holds.